Founded in 2004 by a collective of artists and activists, PATOIS: The New Orleans International Human Rights Film Festival is a vital crossroads where art meets social justice. What began as a radical vision to amplify local and global struggles through film has evolved into an annual gathering deeply invested in the city of New Orleans. This April, PATOIS returned to transform the Broad Theater into a hub of culture and celebration. The week-long festival offered a dynamic slate of film screenings, live musical performances, and intimate conversations with filmmakers, community organizations, and political visionaries. From stories of Indigenous sovereignty to powerful calls for transgender rights and prison abolition, the programming challenged audiences to imagine new futures grounded in collective care and radical change. Among this year’s standout films were Heightened Scrutiny, a powerful documentary by Sam Feder that follows the legal battle to overturn Tennessee’s ban on gender-affirming care for transgender youth (United States v. Skrmetti). After the screening, Mariah Moore, the first Black trans woman to run for City Council, joined the stage for a discussion with the film’s director and producer. The Strike, directed by JoeBill Muñoz and Lucas Guilkey, revisits the origins and impact of Pelican Bay State Prison’s Security Housing Unit (S.H.U.), a prototype for “supermax” prisons worldwide. (Full write-ups of these films are available in our May Reviews section.)
Though the films varied in form and focus, a steady current of liberation united the festival. Each screening invited attendees not just to witness groundbreaking art, but to participate, reflect, question, and connect. Whether through the raw vulnerability of personal narratives or the urgency of political critique, PATOIS offered more than entertainment; it cultivated a shared space for healing, perspective, and imagination. The festival stood as a reminder that storytelling, when rooted in justice, can be both a mirror and a map—a tool to see ourselves more clearly and to chart paths toward freedom.
But grand vision alone does not make a film festival. Behind the scenes, it was the PATOIS Collective—moving camera equipment, setting the stage for multiple acts, and affirming the value of each film and participant—who made it all feel seamless. Their efforts were the glue holding the production together, grounded in a deep commitment to accessible and ethical storytelling. The sole presence of passionate local volunteers and authentic media inspired an audience to witness firsthand the progress being made in community engagement through film.
After the festival, I caught up with Darlene Jones—beloved New Orleans native, longtime community activist, film enthusiast, and a dedicated member of the PATOIS Collective. Jones shared her reflections on the festival’s impact, her memories of theater-going as a cultural touchstone, and how much has changed in the age of streaming. Our conversation took us back in time, to when the Rally’s on St. Bernard and Galvez was still the Circle Theater. Jones was part of the first integrating class at Francis T. Nicholls High School (now Frederick A. Douglass High School). Amid the racial tensions of the time, she fondly remembers her first visit to the Circle Theater. “It was the Black theater, you know,” she recalled. Despite the segregation and the absence of people who looked like her onscreen, Jones became a certified movie fanatic. “The movies that were [screening] were not for us in any kind of way, but they were still movies, things that we could look at. One of the rewards of going to those films was sometimes at the end of all of the bikini movies—we called them bikini movies—Stevie Wonder would sing ‘Fingertips’ and that was our little treat!”
That memory struck me: Even though Jones found her niche in film, it came at a cost. The act of going to the theater meant enduring “colored only” signs and sitting through stories that either erased or distorted Black life. When I asked her about her favorite movie, she surprised me: “To most of my friends and family’s dismay, one of my favorite films of all time is Gone with the Wind.” I laughed—my grandmother loved that film too—and it reminded me how cinema can shape, distort, or illuminate reality, cutting across race, age, and personal experience.
When the conversation moved to the age of streaming, Jones had a lot to say. I asked how she felt about the new media landscape as someone who truly loves film. “In our new society, everything is about convenience. Everything is at the palm of your hand, and you lose the camaraderie and the shared experience of being in a theater,” she said. “There’s nothing like seeing a film on a big screen with an audience. Everybody’s seeing it at the same time, for the first time—or even the second or third time. If you’re seeing a film again, it’s because you want to. You get a different experience. So I think it’s a great loss that people aren’t going to the theater like they used to.”
While technology may shift the way we consume media, the need for collective spaces—where stories are felt in real time, among neighbors and strangers alike—remains vital. PATOIS is a reclamation of that communal experience. It’s a space where voices long silenced are not only heard but celebrated, and where history, resistance, and joy unfold side by side. In a city like New Orleans—where culture is necessary to survival and storytelling is sacred—PATOIS continues to prove that film can be a powerful force for transformation.
For more info, check out patoisfilmfest.org.
Top photo: Joy Clark performs before a screening of Heightened Scrutiny at the Broad Theater.
